


Jingle Bell Rock

by WhoInWhoville



Series: Christmastime is Here [4]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance, christmastime is here, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 19:41:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9008311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoInWhoville/pseuds/WhoInWhoville
Summary: Alien activity leads the Doctor and Rose Tyler to an American high school in 1957, just in time for the Christmas party hop.





	

**Author's Note:**

> 2014 dwsecretsanta gift for gomezandcapaldi. She wanted the Doctor to surprise Rose. Merry Christmas!
> 
> Originally posted in December of 2014. Putting it back up.

Rose Tyler was rarely nervous about her adventures with the Doctor. And as adventures went, this one didn't seem like it was going to be particularly dangerous. That could change at any moment, of course. More than likely, in all honesty.

But for some reason, she couldn’t shake the butterfly-fluttering, belly-churning feeling that was ebbing by the minute.

"Tug on those any harder, and we'll be chasing around forty-nine calcium carbonate-encased grains of sand as they slip through the holes in the grating, and roll around under the console. It's a tight squeeze down there. And technically, the necklace isn't even mine. I borrowed it, even though I really have no intention of ever returning it, considering I don't remember who I borrowed it from."

Rose nodded lamely, not even making a comment about stealing versus borrowing. She released the string of pearls, and they clanked quietly against the topmost button of her grey and white argyle cardigan. Her sensible black shoes thudded on the metal flooring as she moved from her original spot -- leaning against a one of the twisting coral struts -- to the white bench. Slowly, she sat down. The charcoal grey, wool pencil skirt was not the most comfortable thing she'd ever worn. I thought that they only wore swingy skirts in the 50s she thought to herself as the skirt stretched tightly across her thighs.

The TARDIS had mentally shoved this outfit into her face — an argyle twinset and coordinating skirt — when the Doctor sent her to the wardrobe with instructions to find something appropriate for a young lady working in the principal's office of an American high school. December of 1957. Winter. In North Dakota. (That brilliant pink satin dress had been nowhere to be found.)

"You know, Rose Tyler, the best way to keep a string of pearls perfectly pearlescent is to wear them often. The oils secreted from human skin act as a conditioner of sorts.”

He flicked a switch with his foot, and then outstretched his arm to slap a button on the other side of the console.

“You should really wear those regularly. They compliment your skin. Remind me and get them restrung."

"Hmmm?"

He turned away from the screen, crossed his arms and leaned his back against the edge of the console. "All right, what's wrong? I thought you'd be thrilled to go back to the 1950s. Malt shops, drive-ins, Elvis..."

Rose sighed. "I am excited, Doctor. I'm just sorta nervous. About the job part. Not the figuring out what's going on at the school part. It's the typing and shorthand and dealing with the high school kids when I'm barely older than any of them bit!”

“Rose Tyler, you have faced down the Dalek fleet, had your face sucked into the screen of a telly, had a chat with the Sycorax, and survived Jackie Tyler's cooking. If the psychic paper told the principal you were his temp secretary, then you’ll be brilliant.” He flashed her a grin and winked. “Ladies and gentlemen, the Captain has turned on the Fasten Seat Belt sign. If you haven’t already done so, please stow your carry-on luggage underneath the seat in front of you or in an overhead bin. Please take your seat and fasten your seat belt. And also make sure your seat back and folding trays are in their full upright position.”

The TARDIS wheezed, groaned, and then shuddered. The Doctor held onto the console, and Rose bounced off of the bench as the ship jumped ahead one week after their original arrival date. In spite of her nerves, she laughed, the butterflies now a bit less fluttery.

“Let’s split this joint, Doll,” the Doctor said with a rockabilly sneer as he offered his arm.

With a wide grin, Rose slid her arm through the Doctor’s. “Right-o, Daddy-O!”

Together, they walked out of the TARDIS, and into the frigid air of Fargo, North Dakota, December 17, 1957.

oOo

Rose knocked on Principal Peterson’s door.

“Yes, Miss Tyler,” replied the voice behind the heavy wood.

“Mrs. Michaelsen has sent Johnny Jorgensen to see you, sir.”

Rose could heard the tired man groan. “What’d that hoodlum do this time?”

“Smoking in the loo… er, the boy’s toilet… I mean the boy’s bathroom, sir.” Rose pinched her lips, stifling a laugh.

“Oh, for the love of Mike. Can’t that boy go one day without being sent to my office?” whined the tired man. “Five more days. Just five… more… days until Christmas vacation starts.”

Rose sighed. “Shall I send him in, sir?”

“Gimme a couple of minutes. Let him stew in his own juices.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Miss Tyler, please stop calling me sir. This isn’t Jolly Old England. I'm Mr. Peterson. Mis...ter...Peeee...terson.”

“Very good, Mr. Peterson,” Rose said. It was the fourth time he’d corrected her, but she was rather enjoying making the principal feel a bit uncomfortable.

Rose returned to her desk. “Johnny, now why’d you go and do something so dumb as smoking in the loo? Don’t you know that smoking cigarettes can kill you?”

“Smoking ain't gonna hurt nobody. They're healthy in fact. Saw an ad in a magazine once that said so. Besides, I had to get away from that old moldy, Mrs. Michelsen. This place is nowheresville.” The surly teen with the slicked-back hair crossed his arms, and slunk deeper into the chair.

“That’s Miss Tyler to you, Johnny,” she said, but not unkindly. “And what’s moldy? There’s mold in your classroom?”

“That crusty old teacher, Mrs. Michaelsen. She’s the moldy. A square. You may be a doll, doll-face, but you ain’t hep.”

Rose laughed. “Johnny, it’s not appropriate for you to call me doll.”

He smiled. “Sorry, doll.”

Rose leaned forward onto her desk. “So who are you taking to the Holly Hop on Saturday night?” she asked, changing the subject.

“You offering?” he asked with a wolfish grin.

“No,” she drawled. “Good looking bloke like you, bet you got the girls lining up for a date.”

“I ain’t going to no dance. Dances are for squares.”

Rose snorted at the seriousness of his disdain. The door squeaked as a girl wearing a white button-front shirt and a red skirt swept in. Her ponytail swung as she turned to close the door.

“Good morning, Miss Tyler," she said properly. "Dr. Smith asked me to deliver this message to you. He’s so dreamy. Don’t you think so?”

“He’s dreamy, alright,” said Rose with a smile.

“Hey Darlene, is that a hickey on your neck?” teased Johnny.

“Johnny Jorgensen!" She whirled to look at him with her hands on her hips, but then composed herself. "I see you're in trouble again. What a surprise.” The girl smirked at the leering boy.

“Sit on it, Darlene,” he grumbled.

“That’s not the way you should speak to a lady, Johnny.” The girl tilted her nose in the air.

“You ain’t no lady,” the boy shot back.

“Drop dead.” Darlene crossed her arms and stared at him.

Rose whistled through her fingers. “All right you two, that’s enough! Darlene, give me the note, and then get back to class. Johnny, apologize to Darlene.”

“Sorry, Darlene,” he said with a smirk.

“Apology accepted, Johnny Jorgensen,” replied Darlene in a song-song voice. “But only because I’m a lady. I know you aren’t sorry.” her red skirt with the white, fuzzy poodle appliqué flared as she turned away from Rose’s desk and swept out of the office.

“That stupid paper-shaker thinks she’s better than everybody else just ‘cuz her daddy owns the Cadillac dealership. And why is there a hound dog on her skirt? Dumbest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Rose wondered what a paper-shaker was, but decided not to ask.

“Mr. Jorgensen,” called the principal. “Step into my office.”

Slowly, Johnny rose from the the chair. His shoulders slumped as he dragged his feet into the balding man’s office.

Rose unfolded the note from the Doctor.

What’s cookin’, Rose! 

Have your typing skills been tested yet? These young people are quite the whipper-snappers. Wait… Do people still say “whipper-snapper” in 1957? I don’t think so. I’ll have to look into that tonight. Anyway, there is definitely an alien presence here at West Central High. My sonic doesn’t lie, Rose Tyler, so keep your eyes peeled. 

Ever yours, 

The Doctor 

PS I have a surprise for you. Keep Saturday night free. 

oOo

“Oh Darlene, that skirt is simply divine! Where ever did you get it?” cooed one of the half-dozen girls who were now encircling Darlene Davidson.

“Oh, this ratty old thing?” replied Darlene. “It’s nothing really, just a little old thing Mother picked up at Marshall Field and Company. Daddy and Mother took the train to Chicago last weekend to go Christmas shopping.”

“Marshall Field’s!” the girls squealed in unison.

“Just look at that sweet little doggy! It’s simply darling!” said a girl with short, curly, dark hair.

“Isn’t it just?” Darlene replied, swishing this way and that.

One of the girls bent down for a closer look. “His eyes even blink, just like a china doll. Simply darling!”

“Don’t be silly, Betty. The poodle’s eyes certainly don’t blink. This isn’t some toy poodle skirt from the five and dime.”

Betty brought her hands to her mouth and giggled. “Silly old me. Of course the poodle didn’t blink.”

The gaggle of girls chatted over each other as they gathered their books from their lockers, slipped on their coats, mittens, hats, and scarves, and went their separate ways.

oOo

“Good afternoon, Miss Tyler,” said the Doctor, with fondness. “Is this seat available?”

“Why, yes it is, Doctor Smith,” she replied with a saucy wink. “I haven’t seen you in the faculty lunchroom before. Is this your first time?”

“Well, normally I partake of luncheon in my chemistry classroom; however, today there was slight mishap, and the classroom is currently uninhabitable.”

“What?” Rose hissed. “What’d you do?” She leaned across the table, eyebrows raised in concern. “There wasn’t any mishap reported to Principal Peterson.”

“It wasn’t that bad. My students were rather entertained in fact, and I was able to show them in practice what their regular chemistry teacher could only tell them about in theory.” The Doctor grinned proudly. “I think I know what’s going on, though.”

“The aliens? So you’ve sussed it out? Do you think we’ll get out of here before Christmas?”

“Yes and yes.” He pulled a shiny red apple from his metal lunchbox, and polished it on his lapel.

“Are the kids in danger?” she asked before taking a bite out of her chicken salad sandwich.

“Nope.” He took a bite out of his fruit, and screwed up his face. “This apple is horrible.”

“How do you know they aren’t dangerous?” she asked.

“I found their ship in a storage cupboard.” He tossed the half-eaten apple into the nearest trash bin — 20 feet away. It thudded and clanked against the metal.

“Swish… Nothing but net,” said Rose with a grin.

“Look at you! Learning the American basketball lingo and everything,” said the Doctor with a pleased-sounding voice. “But that one doesn’t come into common usage for a few decades.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Here, have my banana. Hold on, did you say you found a ship? In a storage cupboard? Do they have some sort of Time Lord technology that it can fit in a cupboard?”

“Good question. But no. Not Time Lord. They’re from the planet Crüzze. Peaceful people for the most part, the Crüzzans. They’re known for their love of tourism. They are all about cultural immersion, going so far as to live in secret right amongst the people they are visiting. And as to the size of their ship — they’re teensy weensy, itsy bitsy, little folk. No bigger than the size of my thumb.”

“So these little tiny… people. They’re here in the high school on some sort of a tourist trip? Why here? This is just an average American school, yeah?” she asked.

“Exactly. Perfectly average. Perfectly. That’s what they are seeking. Cultural authenticity. They obviously wanted to experience an all-American Apple pie slice of teenaged life in 1957.”

Rose furrowed her brows, then nodded. “Whatever floats their boat, I suppose. So is there a problem with them being here? Other than the whole creepy voyeuristic thing.”

“No more voyeuristic than you humans going on safari, or taking a river cruise down the Amazon to observe wildlife.”

“So we’re what? Like animals to them?” asked Rose.

The Doctor opened his mouth to speak, but then snapped it shut.

“Thanks for not insulting my species for once.” Rose smirked, and then wadded up the remains of her lunch.

“They won’t bother anyone as long as they aren’t noticed, but if anyone sees them, they get sorta nervous and become unpredictable. They tend to pinch.” He wiggled his fingers.

“So pinching, peeping Toms, then?” Rose laughed and casually propped her chin in her hand.

“Perfectly harmless otherwise. If fact, if you would like, we could be just off right now. Get back into the TARDIS, fly away to some exotic location. How’d you like to watch the centennial migration of the noxious winged Glink? They’re endangered, you know. Might be our last chance.”

“Time machine, Doctor.” She nabbed a stick of stick of celery from the Doctor’s lunch. "Besides, you promised me a surprise on Saturday. I hope it won't interfere with the Holly Hop. We're chaperoning."

He smiled. “Brilliant! That won't interfere at all. In fact, it works in perfect synchronicity.”

“Hmmm. I'm intrigued. So I take that it a good surprise?" She asked.

“Definitely a good surprise. Molto bené.”

“You going to give me a hint?” Rose bit her lip and fluttered her eyelashes.

“Rose Tyler, that would completely defeat the purpose of the surprise!” The Doctor stood from his seat. “Would you look at the time? First bell should be sounding in five minutes, four point one seconds. I increased the efficiency of their automated system bell system. Couldn't do with sloppy time-keeping at West Central High.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Being a teacher? Hanging around these kids.”

“Not a bad adventure, as adventures go. See you later alligator.”

“In a while crocodile.” Rose waved goodbye, and made her way back to her desk just outside of the principal’s office.

oOo

“Good morning, Miss Tyler. How are you doing today? You certainly look fine and festive in your Very Merry Christmas green dress.”

"Thanks, Eddie Haskell," she replied with a snort.

Johnny Jorgensen didn't flinch at the odd comment as he stood in front of Rose’s desk with his hands behind his back. His hair was carefully combed and his standard white t-shirt had been replaced with a plaid button-front shirt. Gone was his leather jacket, and today he was sporting tan trousers instead of faded blue jeans.

“Why are you dressed-— I mean, good morning, Johnny. What can I do for you?” asked Rose.

“Well it’s this way, Miss Tyler. I’ve decided to take your advice and go to the Holly Hop on Saturday night after all, and I am here to ask if you would be so inclined as to allow me the honor of being your escort?”

Rose raised an eyebrow, and let her mouth fall open. “What?”

“You said I was a good looking guy, right? Wasn’t that you hinting to me that you wanted me to ask you to the dance?” he asked casually.

“Uh, no, Johnny. First off, I’m the principal’s secretary. You do know that, right? I’m not a student.”

“Yeah, but you ain’t much older than me, right? I’m almost eighteen, and you can’t be more than what, twenty? I’d be doing you a favor in fact, considering you’re getting a bit long in the tooth and all. Having to work at a school when all your lady friends are probably home cooking and cleaning for their husbands, right? Right.”

Rose guffawed. “Still a no.” She crossed her arms. “Shouldn’t you be in class?”

“Classes are for nerds. I know all of that stuff already. Known it since I was just a kid. Say, that’s another reason you should go with me. On account of my being so intelligent. Women go for the brainy type, or so my big sister says. She's in college studying to be an engineer. She’s the one always telling me to ditch the whole James Dean look and start looking more like Cary Grant.”

“Johnny, it doesn’t really matter what you’re wearing. It’s what you do that counts. You might think you know everything already, but believe me, you don’t. Now go back to class. Figure out someone else you to ask to the dance. Someone who isn’t so… old.” She half-smiled at him.

“No pressure, no pressure. Just give me a ring-a-ding-ding when you change your mind. But get a move on, ‘cuz it’s already Friday morning.” Casually, Johnny pushed one of his hands into a pocket, and with is other hand, shot her with his pointer finger while winking. “See you later, Dolly.”

Rose rolled her eyes.

oOo

"Look at you!" the Doctor exclaimed in that high pitched, happy voice of his. "All red-velvety Holly Hoppish..."

Rose carefully tiptoed over to the Doctor so that her red satin kitten-heels didn't get caught in the grating.

"You look rather festive yourself, Doctor." She smiled up at him, and tapped the piece of holly pinned to the lapel of his brown pinstripes. "Like the hair, too." Rose looked up at the coif, which wasn't quite as pouffy as it had been during their last venture in the 50s. "Experimenting with backcombing again?"

"I'm always experimenting." He waggled his eyebrows. "Going my way, doll?"

She smiled up at him softly. "Always, Doctor."

oOo

Rockin' around the Christmas tree at the Christmas party hop, mistletoe hung where you can see every couple tries to stop... 

"I caught Johnny Jorgensen trying to spike the punch," the Doctor whispered into Rose's ear over the din of the recorded song.

"Is that why the punchbowl shattered? You soniced it, didn't ya?"

"Couldn't have any innocent youngsters getting inebriated on my watch, Rose Tyler. I take my role as chaperone very seriously."

"I bet you've spiked a punchbowl or two," she teased, bumping her shoulder against his.

"Yep."

"Uh oh, Johnny and Darlene are dancing too close for the rules. Be right back." Rose scurried over to the couple.

"Nothing like humans in love." The Doctor said to himself wistfully. "Oh! It's time!" He bounded out of the gym.

oOo

"Merry Christmas! Happy Kwanza! Hanukkah blessings! Festive Festivus! Joyful Juuuukllikeee... Errr... Wrong planet. Anyway, I'm the Doctor, and there is someone out there who is about to get her Christmas surprise. I promised to take her to see Elvis Presley a few weeks back, and well, us being us, plans changed, and we didn't quite make it."

Rose made her way to the front of the crowd, right at the foot of the stage. The Doctor looked down at her. "Rose Tyler, Merry Christmas."

Onto the stage strode a handsome, slim young man with jet black hair and a guitar slung over his shoulder. "Hello everyone. Merry Christmas."

The Doctor jumped off of the stage, and grabbed Rose by the hand. "May I have this dance?"

Rose’s mouth fell open. ”Doctor, is that... Elvis?" asked Rose.

He grinned, placed one hand at the base of her spine, and pulled her close with his other hand. “Not the Elvis, an Elvis. He’s the King's great, great, great, great, great, great-great-great, grandson. Genetic multiplicity.”

The heavy red curtain swept aside, and a full rock and roll band appeared behind the New King of Rock and Roll.

“So you went and picked him up? And brought him here just for me?”

“Took a little trip while you were chaperoning Johnny and Darlene. They make an interesting couple. Anyway, Elvis the Tenth owed me a favor. Ironically, it was group of Crüzzans that led me to him. They decided to observe his show at the New Sands on Las Vegas. The space station, not the city. They were discovered, and he lost his entire audience.”

“Pinching?” she asked.

“Actually, this group was fond of tickling.”

Rose laughed, and nestled her head into his chest as the New King of Rock and Roll crooned, Blue Christmas. They swayed, dancing a slow two-step.

“Ouch!” yelped Rose, pulling away. “I just got pinched!”

“Okay, that’s enough. By order of Section 15 of the Shadow Proclamation I demand parley with your leader, Sir or Madame Crüzzan.”

A tiny little creature appeared from behind the holly boutonniere on the Doctor’s lapel. “She was crushing me!” said the miniature puffball in a squeaky voice.

“Well I didn’t do it on purpose!” said Rose. She cupped her hands, and the Crüzzan hopped down onto her palms. She smiled down at the little person. “You need to stop pinching people. It’s not nice,” admonished Rose. “Just look, don’t touch.”

“You’re not afraid of me?” it asked.

“Should I be afraid of you? Are you dangerous?” she asked.

“Of course not. We’ve come to observe an authentic 1950’s era Christmas celebration as observed by all-American teenagers,” explained the creature. “I do believe that you are in violation of an important human Christmas tradition.” The little puffy person looked up, and pointed.

A sprig of mistletoe hung from the basketball hoop directly above Rose and the Doctor.

Rose smiled down at the little person. “Not with you looking, I’m not. Now off you go. Go hide someplace else, and don’t spy on people who are kissing. It’s rude.”

The creature made a harrumphing sound, hopped off of her hands, and scurried away.

“Thank you, Doctor. This was a lovely surprise.”

“You’re welcome. And he’s right, you know. We are in violation.” The Doctor pulled Rose back into his arms a little bit closer than school policy allowed.

Rose stood on tiptoe and pressed a soft, sweet kiss to his lips. With a gentle nose bump, they parted. “Merry Christmas, Doctor,” she whispered against his lips. Feeling a firm tap on her shoulder, Rose startled, pulling away from the Doctor’s lips.

“Miss Tyler, Dr. Smith, the two of you are setting a very, very bad example. I must insist that you cease this behavior immediately!”

The Doctor waggled his eyebrows, pulled Rose back into his arms, and looked over her shoulder at the offended principal. “Sorry Principal Peterson, but we are currently in violation of at least fourteen laws in this galaxy alone. Can’t have that. Would be setting a bad example for all of these impressionable youngsters.” He looked up at the mistletoe, pointed to it, and kissed Rose Tyler to the beat of Jingle Bell Rock.


End file.
